


Skeletons Rattle in the Dark

by liketolaugh



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: (But only barely - it was a rocky road), Angst with a Happy Ending, Autistic Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Cursed Dolls, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Gen, Isolation, Mild Horror, Recovery, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural Elements, i'm a fool i can't believe i forgot that one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-10-18 14:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20640332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketolaugh/pseuds/liketolaugh
Summary: The doll was stained in blood both red and blue; decades of wear had faded much of the color from its surface. To anyone else, it was unsettling, even scary, cursed or haunted. But Connor, falling apart under the weight of sins both his and not, couldn’t bring himself to put it down for more than a few minutes at a time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Story is loosely inspired by this tumblr post,and the doll mentioned is this one.

After Markus made his speech to the crowd of newly-freed androids, Connor slipped away into a corner where he could hide until night fell.

It wasn’t the final straw, what Amanda had done. In some ways it had felt like karma, or catharsis, like a horror he had earned and deserved even as he fought it so desperately – so it didn’t hurt as much as Connor felt it should have (though it hurt quite a lot.) Actually, Connor would be hard-pressed to say what _had _been the final straw, the event that pushed him past the point of tolerance into a keening void of black emotion.

Was it when Lieutenant Anderson had held a gun to his head and asked him if he was afraid to die, and Connor had said _no _because that was the answer Amanda would have wanted?

Was it the third death, when the task of crawling across the floor had seemed insurmountable and he just closed his eyes to wait?

Was it when Elijah Kamski had pushed a gun into his hands and whispered for him to destroy the machine in front of him, and he had obeyed despite the ringing emptiness of death that echoed behind his eyes?

Was it when he looked Markus in the eyes and finally allowed himself to understand that everything he’d worked so hard for was _wrong?_

The answer was out of Connor’s reach, and in the end it didn’t matter at all – by the time he opened his eyes on the stage again and put the gun in his pocket, he was drowning and he knew he couldn’t stay. The few hours left of the day passed in a blur, and people passed his hiding place by without a second glance. It wasn’t until long after darkness fell that Connor dared come out, wandering the abandoned streets in numb search of a place to go.

He couldn’t stay here.

Connor walked, and it wasn’t fast enough so he jogged, and then he was running, taking turns at random as if to lose himself in the streets despite the GPS in his HUD that kept careful track of every step he took.

It was close to one edge of the city that he slowed from a run to a jog to a slow, listless walk, feeling no better than when he’d started. His mood got darker with every step, a tired and raw anxiety wrapping around his shoulders. He didn’t trip only because the motion protocols were mindless, calculated in a distant part of his mind, but his walk got slower and slower until he stopped, overwhelmed by the prospect of going a single step further.

He looked down. A few feet in front of him, there was a little doll, clearly old and used – rain-soaked, stained, worn from the years. One of the printed-on eyes had had most of the color rubbed away. A little bottle patterned with flowers sat about six inches away.

It was stained with thirium, like much of the street nearby. If there was a body – a YK model, maybe – that the doll had belonged to, it had been cleared away. Connor let his legs fold to kneel down beside it, hands pressing flat to the ground, and his choking misery threatened to swallow him up again. His body heaved and shivered, his shoulders bent under a nonexistent weight, and for a while he stared silently at the doll. There were brown stains peeking out from the back of it – blood, more likely than not, and very old blood at that.

**[2005 Kinder Garden Babies doll, violet]**

What was he going to do? Where could he go? Lieutenant Anderson, who looked at him with such disgust, wouldn’t think twice of him – the police department, eying him warily, certainly wouldn’t either. Jericho, which he’d harmed so horribly, would be quite right to cast him out, and the names just piled up – the Tracis, the Chloe, Ralph and Rupert and the HK400 who hadn’t had a name at all-

And now Amanda among them, and Connor was alone.

Before he could think twice about it, his hands scooped up the doll, smaller than a true infant and just big enough to comfortably hold in two hands, and he squeezed it to his chest. His next breath came in a gasp, and he choked on the one after. The third came close to a wheeze.

The fourth wrenched itself up in a sob, and tears, saline cleaning solution, started to spill down his cheeks, with no rain to mask them, only the soft dark of a city night. He clung to the abandoned doll like he’d forgotten how to let go, like if he did he’d lose himself and fall, and it didn’t matter if it was true because he wasn’t letting go. He stayed in place and rocked himself and cried, wept and sobbed and surrendered to the tempest that had dragged at him for days.

Connor stayed there until the light of dawn started to lighten the sky above, and while the tears had stopped by then the shaking hadn’t, nor had he loosened from his tightly curled posture, wrapped around the doll in search of comfort he didn’t deserve and no one else would provide.

But with the dawn would come the first stirrings of civilization, calmed down for only a night by the terror of the revolution, and Connor couldn’t stay.

He took the doll with him. Tucked her bottle into his pocket and her body against his chest, and walked away, hurried but not frantic, not desperate. The one to whom she had previously belonged had no need of her anymore (YK500 #548 901 257, designation: Sadie) and he couldn’t bring himself to put her down. It was silly, it was irrational, but he felt so _lost _and having something to hold, to stroke and neaten, helped ground him.

Connor held on only long enough to make his way into a condemned parking garage, to find an alcove to tuck himself into and set the doll in his lap, and he pushed himself into stasis because he suddenly found he couldn’t stand to be awake for one moment longer.

He dreamed of falling, not from a fifty story building but into an abyss that never ended, knowing that he wouldn’t be alive to feel himself hit the ground.

* * *

“I know that my memory ends before I truly die,” Connor murmured to the doll, to Venus in her little stained purple outfit emblazoned with a brand name that had long become too worn to read. “But I cannot help but feel like the silence between upload and reactivation is too… dense. There is no life after death, Venus, at least not for androids. There’s nothing but emptiness waiting for us.”

He had shifted locations three times in the last week, not wanting to stay in one place more than a few days. No one would look for him, except perhaps to kill him in vengeance, but he did not want to invoke curiosity by becoming a staple anywhere either. He had taken Venus with him every time, her bottle in the crook of her arm or in his pocket, and her face tucked against his chest.

She appeared to have no mechanical parts, but despite this hindrance she often moved in the night and sometimes when he simply turned around for a few moments. Connor found he didn’t mind. That was, apparently, just Venus’ nature.

Connor exhaled, letting his forehead fall against that of the little doll and his eyes close. “Is that what I sentenced Chloe to, Venus? Did I sentence her to a null eternity?” He huffed softly. “I suppose that’s a contradiction, of sorts, but I can’t bring myself to abandon the thought. Or did Kamski reupload her? Perhaps she dreams of the emptiness too.”

The blood staining her clothing had been rubbed and worn beyond crunching under his touch like a near-fresh stain, and testing had not revealed any known DNA profile. Likely she was too old for that. Her ‘model’ was, after all, thirty-three years old. The bloodstains probably predated androids as a people, let alone Connor himself.

_There are no dreams, Connor. There is only… the imprint of your own memories._

Venus’ voice came in a whisper, barely on the edge of even Connor’s exceptional hearing, and he found that this didn’t bother him either. Not only was it not the first time he’d heard a voice attributable to Venus, but he simply… didn’t have the energy to mind.

Venus was the only one he’d spoken to in the last week, and the only one he planned to speak to for a very long time yet.

“I know,” he whispered against her forehead. “I know.”

_Shh. It’s okay to cry. I won’t tell._

Connor did, not the wracking sobs of the first night but silent and trailing tears.

“Lieutenant Anderson wanted to send me there,” he breathed through the static rasp of his vocal module. “I can’t help but think that he knew. I deserve it now, and I deserved it even more then, but it still feels… Lieutenant Anderson and I are not friends, but I still can’t bring myself to reconcile that night with his behavior at large.” Pause. “Perhaps he thinks of it as a relief. He wants so badly to go there himself.”

A few moments of silence, and Connor breathed, deep and shuddering, leaning on the concrete wall blocking off the roof’s edge, under the cover of the witching hour.

Eventually, he lifted his head, and released Venus with one hand to wipe the tears away from his face. His Cyberlife jacket was long gone, replaced by a hoodie he’d scrounged up from somewhere, too big and unmarked. His LED blinked miserable yellow, in plain sight.

_Some people do, _Venus whispered. _Coleen did. Now I make other people want to, like her family made her._

“I suppose I couldn’t hurt anybody there,” Connor murmured, unfocused eyes gazing down at Venus’, which stared back up at him, blank and worn pale, lips pursed in the faintest of innocent smiles. “That would be a relief all on its own. I would never hurt anybody ever again.” He hesitated, but this was Venus, and if he didn’t speak the thought would swallow him. “And nobody could hurt _me.”_

_Not you, _Venus said, breathy and soft. _You’re not like them. You’re a cursed doll, like me._

“Oh,” Connor breathed, and he pulled Venus to his chest, cradled careful and kind. “That’s alright then.”

His tired gaze stared out over the city from the parking garage rooftop where he stood. He found he wasn’t as frightened of heights as he had been once.

* * *

Connor washed Venus eventually, as gentle as his well-calibrated hands could manage, soap and water in a public bathroom. The very oldest stains, the old blood soaked into her back, didn’t wash away, but years of dirt and dust turned the water grey and swirled down the drain. It didn’t brighten her outfit to a new color, but it was a faded pastel lavender that Connor had learned to find more comforting than almost anything else in the world.

He patted her dry with the paper towels, ignored the humans that edged around him, and sighed softly when not all of the moisture came up so easily.

“I could set you in the sun for a while,” Connor murmured, lifting her and setting her in the crook of his elbow, body half turned in to his. He set the bottle against her wrist and it did not fall, and then straightened her crooked cap. “That would likely dry away the last of the moisture before you mildewed; the sun is bright today.”

Venus did not reply, but Connor nodded anyway, stepping outside and slipping away from the slight crowds and into darker, more remote alleyways with all the haste he could manage.

He’d been on his own for months now; spring was in full swing, and much of the rain had petered off, along with almost all of the snow. That was much of why he had chosen to wash Venus today – the weather was near-optimal for helping her dry.

“I could have waited until summer, and this part would have been easier,” he said to her, quiet, “but then you would have been dirty for much longer, and I’m certain that can’t be pleasant.”

He’d found a decommissioned ship to stay in for that week, not too terribly far from where Jericho had been, but not so close that it seemed disrespectful either. Finding places to stay had become easier as the habit developed, and soon he would be able to reuse old locations without arousing fresh suspicion.

Connor still avoided people as much as he could – androids more than humans, but humans still as much as he feasibly could. He felt- anxious, unwelcome, wary around others.

Fortunately, others felt wary around him as well. Or more specifically, around Venus.

He found a sunny spot within the rusty ship and Venus down carefully. “There. That should do.”

_Thank you, _Venus breathed. _I haven’t been clean in so long._

Connor smiled faintly, reaching out to brush his fingers over the violet cap. “Of course. It’s the very least I could do.” He tilted his head back, looking at the sky. “I’ve never seen a spring before. It’s… nice, to see the flowers bloom.” He swallowed. “Except the roses. I don’t know why, but the roses make me feel ill.” He glanced at Venus. “I’m an android. I don’t get ill.”

_I have seen many springs, _Venus whispered to him. _They always bring a new year._

“I don’t need a new year,” Connor said before he could think better of it. “All I need is… is this. I’m okay if it stays like this forever.” The thought of _before_ made his breath catch, and the thought of what may lay ahead made him shiver.

_You’ll get one anyway, _Venus said. _But you can make it the same if you want._

“I do,” Connor said fervently. “I’d mess up anything else I tried. I always have.”

Venus did not reply, and Connor fell silent, hunched down on himself again, and watched the progress of evaporating moisture instead. He already wanted to pick up and hold Venus again, but he wanted to make sure she dried properly first.

He didn’t want her to wear down any more than he could prevent. He didn’t know what he’d do if she fell apart.

* * *

Between his own capabilities and Venus’ own, Connor made it clear from November to June before encountering anyone he knew. But Markus, it turned out, was made of stronger stuff than that.

Connor woke up to a rabbit heartbeat pounding in his chest, eyes already wide before he understood what was happening; a stranger had entered the condemned apartment complex where he’d spent the last week, and as he sat up, he met their eyes.

Markus stared back, rigid and understandably wary, but standing steady in his place with his hand clenched tight around the doorframe.

Connor pushed himself carefully back, just half a foot, without pausing to think about it. He couldn’t bring himself to speak. His hand found Venus, always within easy reach, and he pulled her tight against himself, internal ventilation kicking up a notch as if already threatening to overheat. He didn’t stand.

Markus’ eyes flicked briefly to the doll, and then settled on Connor again, noticeably dimmer, as if sad despite the tension that still wracked his frame.

“Connor,” Markus said, soft and gentle, the way one spoke to an injured animal. And then, impossibly, he smiled, more reassuring than happy but a surprise either way. Connor stared at him. “You’re a hard man to find.”

He slid in, slow and easy to follow with no sudden movements, but Connor scooted a little farther away anyway, eyes wide. Markus lowered himself to the ground, crouching but not sitting, and didn’t let his smile fall.

“Lieutenant Anderson has been asking after you,” Markus continued, quiet. “He seems to think you’ll show up in Jericho sooner or later. Whether or not you do is up to you, of course.”

Connor took a breath, short and sharp. The hand still on the ground came up to cradle the back of Venus’ head, holding her tighter against himself, and he knew it made him look a little deranged but he _felt _slightly deranged, so it was fine.

Markus’ voice became, impossibly, softer. “Your absence has been noted, I should say. Those you brought from Cyberlife Tower, in particular, have missed you. I’m sure they would welcome your company, and perhaps your guidance, should you offer.”

Perhaps involuntarily, Markus’ gaze flickered around the room – the worn walls, the recently rearranged furniture. It was a temporary dwelling, for Connor, and it showed. Markus frowned, and Connor’s rusty social routines said, _worry._

“And I have been curious as well,” Markus added. “I know you weren’t yourself as a machine, Connor – no one is. It isn’t fair that you’re being blamed for the sins you couldn’t help.”

Connor shuddered quietly, and spoke for the first time. “It was never about what was fair.”

Markus paused, visibly surprised, and met Connor’s eyes.

“I suppose not,” Markus agreed after a moment. “Still, I’m sorry you had to suffer for it.”

Connor shrugged. Markus hardly knew the whole of it, anyway.

Markus smiled at him, small and strained. “Will you at least consider coming by, Connor? I’d consider it a personal favor – I’ve been worried, I must admit.”

His dual-toned eyes were too intense. He seemed sincere.

Connor hesitated, and then slowly moved to sit cross-legged, set Venus in his lap and looked at her because he couldn’t bear to look at Markus for a moment longer.

“I don’t know if I should,” he murmured to Venus, knowing Markus could hear him but unable to keep himself from speaking anyway. “I’m not welcome in Jericho, nor should I be – my sins as a machine can’t be wiped away by simple time, and they’ll be afraid and they won’t be wrong.” He paused. “But perhaps I can help, if I really try. If they want me to. Don’t I owe them that?”

Venus did not reply; she never did around others. Regardless, Connor knew what her response would be. This was Connor’s choice alone – Venus went where she was taken.

He picked Venus up again, tucked her against his chest behind crossed arms, and looked at Markus, who watched him expectantly, a faint furrow in his brow.

“Did Lieutenant Anderson really ask after me?”


	2. Chapter 2

_I found Connor. He’s okay physically, but I believe he’s been isolating himself for the last six months and it’s most certainly taken a toll. I’m bringing him over. Be careful with him._

Hank scanned the message again, feeling uneasy.

The news that Connor had been found was at once a source of relief and of dread, leaving a mixed and leaden feeling sitting in the pit of Hank’s stomach.

Six months had passed with no word from Connor, and Hank had grown increasingly, dare he say, worried – God knew what could happen to a lone android on the streets these days. Hell, the android had died twice _on Hank’s watch, _and once before; Hank had been almost certain that Connor was dead, except they hadn’t found a body.

At the same time, though, Hank still had nightmares about Connor’s cold behavior as a machine. The steady grip on Kamski’s gun, the spray of blue blood that splattered like any human’s, the dispassionate look on Connor’s face… What reason did Hank have to think any of that _wasn’t _Connor?

But Connor had saved Hank’s life, too – on the rooftop, and other times, in other ways. Scolding him about his food choice, asking his damn ‘personal questions’, hiding the gun every time he found it out like Hank didn’t know exactly where he put it-

He’d given a shit. No one had so openly given a shit about Hank in years. The least he could do was give half of one back.

Eventually, the doorbell rang, and Hank gave a heavy sigh, scowled halfheartedly, and rubbed Sumo’s head once before getting up and opening the door.

He saw Markus first, and the android looked worn and worried – he usually did, but Hank might’ve expected something else now he’d found the famous deviant hunter, whether that be relief or a guarded wariness. More of the same was pretty strange.

Then he saw Connor, stopped, and gave him a long, hard stare.

Connor looked tired. His eyes were downcast, his arms up around his chest, and he didn’t look directly at Hank, apparently preferring instead to stare somewhere around his stomach, all but listless. He shifted on his feet, antsy and clearly uncomfortable.

He looked like a kicked puppy, was what he looked like.

Hank started to relax, resigned and weary, then thought of Chloe, thought of the Tracis, and went rigid again.

“Connor,” he said flatly, and the android’s gaze flickered almost to his face but didn’t quite make it. Instead the android’s head ducked, and he took a half-step back. Markus cleared his throat, and Hank sighed again. “Alright- come in, both of you.”

He stepped back, and Markus gave him a small, polite smile, then gestured for Connor to go in first, which, after a long moment, he did.

“Hell of an evening, Markus,” Hank grumbled, earning a flash of an empty smile from the android.

“Good to see you too, Lieutenant,” he said wryly, and Hank huffed.

“Yeah, yeah- don’t know what you expected, with news like this.”

He transferred his gaze to Connor, who was circling the apartment slowly, the same way he did a new crime scene. Like he was scanning the whole thing for evidence. After a moment, Hank realized with an unwelcome pang that he was looking for signs of how Hank had been doing lately – he lingered over the pile of whiskey bottles by the couch.

Hank coughed. “Usually you say hi first, you bucket of bolts,” he said dryly, and then belatedly recalled Markus’ warning about the isolation. Apparently Connor’s already sub-par social protocols were a little rusty.

Connor startled, and then half-turned, gaze landing evenly on Hank’s face now. His brown eyes were clear, if tired, and he examined Hank for a long moment before offering one of those awful, stiff, and toothy smiles that made Hank grimace. It dropped away a moment later. Thank God. He nodded at Hank, and then continued his careful examination of the room. Hank frowned, glancing at Markus, who shrugged.

“I’m not sure what he’s thinking,” Markus said apologetically. “It took a few tries before he replied to me as well. Try again.”

Hank’s brow furrowed, and when his gaze went back to Connor, it was warier but less hostile. “You look like shit,” he said bluntly, examining Connor more closely. He was wearing a human sweatshirt, but his pants and shoes were still clearly Cyberlife issue. “You’ve been washing, I guess, but it kinda looks like you think that’s all there is to taking care of yourself.” Pause. “Not that I can really say anything about that.”

Connor didn’t respond at all this time, as if he hadn’t heard. Instead, he knelt by Sumo and dropped one hand to rub his head gently, startling so violently when Sumo lifted his head to snuffle at him that he almost fell.

“Lieutenant Anderson became the DPD liaison for Jericho after the evacuation ended,” Markus said, softer, almost coaxing in tone. “He’s done quite a good job, considering. It helps, of course, that he’d already developed a pro-android position.”

Connor glanced at Markus and offered a small, slow nod before looking away again, suddenly wound twice as tight, as if acknowledging his presence made him uncomfortable. Which would explain a lot, actually.

The last of the anger fell away when Connor finally loosened his arm from his chest, revealing a little worn baby doll – a vintage thing Hank might’ve seen as a child, nothing like the photorealistic ones on offer these days, with a stain on its back that could easily be very old blood. Connor showed it to Sumo, who snuffled at it and sneezed, and Connor smiled faintly, a real one this time.

“Fucking hell,” Hank muttered, incredulous and aching. Markus made a gesture at him, raising his eyebrows, and Hank sighed, frustrated.

He’d just wanted to know that the kid was all right, that was all. He had no idea what the fuck to do now that he had his answer, ‘cause the way things had been looking, he’d been expecting the answer to be either ‘yes’ or ‘he’s fucking dead’.

This was pretty clearly a ‘no’ in a way that asked for _someone _to help the kid handle it.

Hank walked over to the couch and plopped down on one end, and stared at Connor for a long minute, while Markus went to perch on the opposite arm, hands folded patiently in his lap, doing a good job of hiding the subtle, worried fidget.

“Thanks for giving a shit about me,” he said at last, figuring that as long as he had the kid here he may as well say his piece. Connor paused, not looking up from Sumo but not making any further moves to engage him either. “I know you didn’t have to. Not the way you did, anyway. I’m not gonna say it made a lick of difference, ‘cause I dunno if it did, but… I noticed, anyway.”

There was a long, beat of silence. Hank didn’t look up to see what look Markus was giving him.

Finally, Connor sat back, pulled the doll up and held it like a baby in the crook of his arm, and looked down at it, face pinched and thoughtful. His other hand moved up to stroke its stomach slowly with the backs of his fingers. Hank frowned, shooting a glance at Markus, who didn’t offer anything more than a strained look of blatant worry.

“I met Hank when I started the deviancy mission,” Connor said at last, quiet and clearly directed at the doll. “That was after I fell. Hank was different from most of the people I interacted with. He didn’t ignore me. He expected things from me. Opinions, compassion.” Pause, and Hank swallowed as Connor’s brow furrowed. “Mostly I failed. I hadn’t learned those things yet. But sometimes I didn’t.” His voice softened a little, got quieter and hushed like he was telling a secret. “Hank was easy to care about, I think, even when he got angry at me for not understanding.”

Fuck. _Fuck._

Hank had realized – late in the game, maybe months after Connor’s disappearance – that Connor was just a kid. A kid who’d been manipulated and used and been far too slow to realize it, and a kid who’d done the best he could to help as soon as he’d learned better. And if Hank didn’t give a shit about him, who would?

Apparently no one.

Hank couldn’t leave the kid alone like this. It’d be inhumane.

He sat up and looked Markus in the eye. “I’ll look after him,” he promised impulsively.

Markus looked heartbreakingly relieved. Apparently that was what he’d been hoping for.

Hank slid off the couch and started toward Connor, projecting his movements and staying in the android’s line of sight. “Kid, if you don’t want me touching you, now’s your chance to complain.”

Connor didn’t move. Hank hoped he’d interpreted correctly, sat beside him, gave him a moment, and then wrapped one arm around Connor’s shoulders, pulling him into an awkward hug.

For a long moment, Connor was stiff as a board. Hank waited apprehensively, and a half-second before he gave up and pulled away and probably apologized, Connor _melted, _pressing against Hank like his was the last hug he’d ever get. Hank relaxed and squeezed, pulling him a little closer, something pulling tight in his chest.

Like a lot of androids, Connor was used until he broke, and break he did.

“That doll have a name?” he asked after a while, rough and quiet. Markus had slipped away, giving him one last nod of obvious gratitude.

He almost didn’t expect Connor to answer, and the silence extended long past when he would’ve expected it to in any regular conversation. But hell. He didn’t have any plans for the night.

“…Venus,” Connor said, very soft. “She’s a 2005 Kinder Garden Babies doll. She’s cursed, same as me.”

* * *

Connor ended up staying, and Hank found he didn’t mind quite as much as he might’ve thought he would. He only sometimes talked to Hank directly, but he almost always listened, and he cleaned and organized what parts of the house Hank let him in. He read and, if Hank left the television on, watched it. He cooked and told his doll it was only polite.

The doll, though, was so creepy Hank couldn’t even handle it. It gave him nightmares practically from the first day, he swore it kept moving in the middle of the night, and it always seemed to be _looking _at him. Connor talked to it all the time and, when he was alone, he’d change his voice like it was talking back, usually too quiet for Hank to make out.

Maybe it was rude, but sometimes he’d stop just out of sight and listen. It was half a mystery and half an open book, what went on in Connor’s mind, and Hank knew damn well Connor told that doll things he never breathed word of to Hank.

“I miss Amanda,” Connor said to the doll, and Hank stopped in the hallway and listened.

(He really should give Connor his own room. But every time he thought of giving him Cole’s, he remembered Chloe and _stiffened.)_

“I know I shouldn’t,” Connor continued, soft and miserable. “She was a part of Cyberlife, and everything she wanted me to do was for them. She tried to crush every sign of deviancy out of me – I should hate her, for manipulating me if nothing else. But I can’t. I miss her _so much, _Venus.”

_“She hurt you,” _‘Venus’ said. Her voice was high and childish, with a hint of an echo and the rasp of a whisper. _“It was mean.”_

“Amanda wasn’t cruel,” Connor argued. “She was dedicated to her task, like I was. I don’t know if it was even her fault. Maybe she was a machine too. Maybe she couldn’t help it.”

_“She made you hate the cold.”_

“And I killed her,” Connor whispered, just barely audible to Hank. “I can’t even tell her I’m sorry, because I’m not, I didn’t want to kill Markus. But I didn’t want to kill her either. I just, I needed- I couldn’t-”

_“It’s okay. She deserved it.”_

Connor exhaled. “Okay. Okay, Venus.”

Hank was glad he didn’t live in Connor’s mind. All told, he lasted about five days before suggesting Connor pay New Jericho a visit, and Connor talked it over to Venus for only a minute before agreeing.

* * *

At Hank’s request, Markus met the two of them at the edge of New Jericho.

Markus couldn’t help but worry about Connor. He’d left him in the best hands he could – while Hank was a gruff and emotionally repressed man, he also _cared _about Connor – but with the state he’d last seen the android in, with the state he’d _found _him in, he couldn’t help it.

Many times, Markus had imagined what the deviant hunter had been up to over the last six months. ‘Coping with the hand he’d been dealt’ had only come up in the most charitable of them.

Seeing Connor the second time brought the same round of program-induced pop-ups that he’d been subjected to the first time, though at a decreased level of urgency.

**[Wary – avoid sudden movements]**

**[Doll is an important comfort object]**

**[Appears unstable – communicate calmly and clearly]**

**[Expect unusual forms of communication]**

Markus dismissed the alerts; they had nothing new to offer him. Instead, he smiled at Connor and nodded at both him and Lieutenant Anderson. “Good afternoon,” he called.

Hank grunted and nodded back, and Connor waved with the hand not holding the doll against his chest.

“Thank you for bringing Connor,” Markus added, when they were closer.

“Sure,” Hank shrugged, giving Connor a quick glance. “God knows he needs more people to talk to than just me. Your plan, uh, probably isn’t a bad one.”

Markus hid a smile; that was probably the most gracious concession he’d get from the other. “I’d hope not. I’ll see you in a few hours, Lieutenant.” He turned to Connor, letting the man make his awkward escape. “It’s good to see you, Connor.”

Connor’s gaze flicked to him, lingering for a little longer than it had the previous week. “Hello, Markus,” he said quietly.

Markus started to lead Connor into New Jericho. More than a few androids stared; a few backed away, and a few circled warily closer. “I’m glad you decided to stay with Lieutenant Anderson,” he confided in Connor, filling the silence on their way. “I know you’ve been doing fine on your own, which I suppose I should’ve expected from an android of your caliber, but it’s not good for anyone to be on their own. Everyone needs support sometimes.”

Connor hummed, quiet and noncommittal, and Markus smiled wryly.

“Lieutenant Anderson really has been a help to us,” he continued, soft and thoughtful. “Of course, he’s no miracle worker and no android. But it’s good, to have an officer on our side. We need one sometimes. Ex-security androids can only do so much.”

He continued like this, filling the silence to an attentive Connor, until they reached the headquarters building, where Simon, Josh, and North were waiting.

They had, of course, been meticulously informed of what to expect. That said, they were still visibly surprised when the two of them entered, Connor holding the baby doll against his shoulder like he was burping it. North looked unsettled, and Josh took a half-step away, obviously wary.

Understanding flickered rapidly across Simon’s face, and he said, “Hello, Markus, Connor.”

Markus shot Simon a grateful smile and said to Connor, whose gaze flickered briefly over each of the Jericho leaders before settling back on the ground, “North is our main security coordinator these days, she keeps track of the population and where safety needs aren’t being met. Josh keeps track of supplies and activities, and Simon makes sure everyone settles in and has their peace of mind.”

North stared at Connor, hard, for a few moments, before glancing at Markus, raising a clearly incredulous eyebrow. Markus ignored her, watching Connor patiently.

Connor shot Markus a long look before resettling Venus into his arm, looking down at her.

“Why does Markus want me here in particular?” he asked the doll warily. “I have met all three of them and we are not on friendly terms. It seems likely that I am still being considered and treated as a threat, necessitating a meeting between myself and the Jericho leaders- but then why allow me here at all?”

“I was hoping,” Markus cut in, well aware that Connor knew they could hear him, “that you would speak to Simon. He’s also been acting as therapist for a slight majority of New Jericho, and he might be able to help you come to terms with everything that’s happened.”

Connor stiffened, and he didn’t look up at Simon before he spoke again, quick and anxious. “I don’t believe that’s a good idea. I tell you everything, Venus. You know why it’s not a good idea.”

“Please, Connor,” Markus said quietly, before Simon gave him a serious nod and approached Connor, stopping a safe distance away to talk to him in a soft and low tone. Connor didn’t answer, ducking away as if expecting a blow and not looking anywhere near the PL600.

Markus himself turned toward North and Josh, who had moved closer.

North spoke first; her voice was hushed in an attempt to hide her anxiety. “Has he been like this the whole time?” She’d been outspoken about discouraging him from looking for Connor, but of course, neither of them had been expecting this.

“Since I first found him,” Markus confirmed, feeling tired. North exhaled, looking defeated.

“Alright,” she conceded, clearly reluctant. “You made the right call.”

It was a hollow victory. A glance revealed that Connor had backed off from Simon, who wasn’t attempting to reclose the distance. Connor was running the backs of his fingers over Venus’ stomach again, all of his focus apparently on her.

“There’s something creepy about that doll,” Josh said suddenly, clearly unnerved. North shot him an incredulous glance.

“You’re more worried about the doll than the deviant hunter?” she scoffed, crossing her arms.

“I think there’s blood on it,” Josh defended. “And look at it! You don’t think it’s creepy, North?”

“I think the creepiest thing about it is that the deviant hunter is talking to it like it’s his friend,” North said dryly, and Josh made an irritated noise.

“It looks haunted,” he hissed. North rolled her eyes openly.

“Oh my God, Josh.”

Connor pulled the doll up so that his cheek landed on its head, his mouth almost by its ear, and he muttered to it, quick and quiet. Simon suddenly straightened, glancing at Markus, who welcomed the distraction from the growing argument beside him.

“I’d like to introduce Connor to Ralph,” Simon said an hour later, once Connor had left.

“If you think that would help,” Markus agreed instantly; he trusted Simon’s judgement.

Housekeeping and childcare were in Simon’s programming, and he was good at them. But taking care of people, helping them feel safe, was his passion, and he’d taken to it like a duck to water.

* * *

“You shouldn’t give the lieutenant nightmares,” Connor told Venus in a quiet tone, sometime during the night. He was on the couch, the television off, curled against the side with Venus sitting up against his forearm. “He’s done nothing to deserve them.”

_“He scares you,” _Venus said, soft and reproachful.

“That’s not his fault,” Connor disagreed, frowning faintly. “And it’s getting better. I’m getting used to being around him, I think.”

_“You don’t need to. You can be on your own. You have me.”_

A faint smile flickered across Connor’s face. “I know, Venus. But I don’t think I want to leave. I… like it here. I think I missed Lieutenant Anderson, and maybe Markus too.”

_“The other leaders weren’t nice.”_

“Josh and North were frightened,” Connor said. “I understand. I did… a lot of bad things.”

_“You were made to.”_

“I know,” he said quietly. “But I still did. And Simon was nice about it.”

_“Simon scares you too.”_

“Not his fault,” Connor murmured, tired. “He makes me think of Daniel and I feel bad, and I think of falling. _Simon _is nice, I think. He wouldn’t hold a little girl hostage.”

_“You can still leave. You don’t have to put up with it.”_

“I remember,” Connor agreed. “But I have you. That makes everything easier.”

He pulled Venus closer, huddling around her with a relieved sigh, squeezing gently. He couldn’t express how grateful he was for Venus – he had no idea how he would have coped alone.

He owed her everything.

“Should I talk to Simon?” he asked at last, quiet and hesitant.

_“You shouldn’t do anything you don’t want to, Connor. You don’t need Simon. You have me.”_

Connor hummed, discontent, and then sat up suddenly as he heard someone approach – Hank, up again like he often was late at night. Hank nodded at him as he came into view, and then dropped down next to Connor, politely ignoring the android’s sudden, startled tension.

“Any idea where that stain’s from?” Hank asked abruptly, nodding at Venus.

Connor held her closer, wary and surprised.

“It’s blood,” he said at last, voice low. “It’s likely older than my database, but…” He hesitated, and then finished, “I think it’s Coleen’s. She owned Venus first.”

Hank went suddenly tense, and Connor’s own tension redoubled, uncertain why.

“Did Coleen die in a car accident?” Hank asked, voice rough and borderline threatening.

“No,” Connor said, not looking at him. His cheek was tucked against Venus again, tense and stressed. His knuckles ran against her back, soothing and rhythmic. “She threw herself off a building because her family was cruel.”

All at once, the anger drained from Hank’s body, and he sighed, long and low.

“…Did Venus have other owners?” he asked after a while, strangely careful.

“Lots,” Connor said without thinking. He straightened her hat and continued, “But most of them put her away and ignored her. The last one was Sadie, a child model. She was killed during the revolution.”

There was another long pause.

“Did one have a heart attack, too?” Hank asked, voice rough with emotion.

Connor nodded – one of the ones Venus had frightened to death had gone that way. “But he deserved it.”

Hank sighed again, heavy, and then reached out and ran his fingers through Connor’s hair. Connor leaned into the touch without hesitation, closing his eyes.

He liked Hank. That was reason enough to stay.

* * *

The next week, Simon was the one to meet Connor and Hank at the edge of New Jericho, and Connor tightened his arms around Venus and avoided the android’s steady gaze. He nodded to Hank as the man left, resigned to staying, and then followed Simon to a different building from the one he’d been led to last time.

Simon brought him to a room, talking quietly the whole way along, and then led him through the door.

Connor recognized the android already inside, and he reflexively hugged Venus tighter, flinching back so that he was almost back out the door again.

Ralph blinked back at him expectantly, fidgeting nervously but with a determined set to his jaw.

“Connor, this is Ralph,” Simon explained, gentle and patient. “I asked him to come here today, and he agreed. Ralph, this is Connor – I told you about him.”

Ralph nodded quickly, offering Connor a shaky smile. “Simon told Ralph about Connor,” he agreed, scooting back in his chair and tapping his feet against the ground. “Ralph wanted to help so Ralph agreed to come.”

Ralph’s hands rubbed roughly against his jeans, and Simon indicated for Connor to sit in the other chair with a small, expectant smile. Wide-eyed, uncertain, Connor did, hesitantly angling himself toward Ralph, who was watching him with an equally wide-eyed look.

He held tight onto Venus. As long as he held onto her, she’d keep him together.

“Simon wanted Ralph’s help with Connor,” Ralph explained, when Connor didn’t speak. “Simon said Connor and Ralph were a lot alike. Ralph doesn’t see it, but that’s fine, Ralph would like to, because Ralph owes Simon a whole lot. Doesn’t Connor?”

Connor swallowed, and then ducked his head to press it against Venus’, eyes squeezing shut.

“I don’t know if Ralph remembers the last time we met,” he whispered to her, “but he should. I was still a machine then and I scared him to find Kara and Alice.” Quieter, “I think it was mean.”

There was a long, silent pause, and when Connor glanced back up, wary, he saw Ralph looking from Connor to Venus to Connor to Simon to Venus, and then Ralph shrugged exaggeratedly and scooted closer in a screech of chair legs.

When Ralph spoke next, he was a little closer, but not _too _close, and he was looking at Venus.

“Ralph remembers meeting Connor. Ralph was very scared. But Ralph remembers being a machine too, and he remembers how bad and strange it was. Simon says Connor is different now, and Ralph believes him. Simon has never lied to Ralph.”

Connor blinked at him, and then loosened a little, looking at Venus.

“Will you help me talk to Ralph?” he asked her, but of course she wouldn’t object, even if she thought it was silly. But he hadn’t tried this before. Slow, faltering, he said to her, “I’m sorry I scared Ralph. But I’m sorry for a lot of things. So I don’t know if it matters.”

The words didn’t quite stick in his throat like they would have if he’d tried to say them directly to Ralph, but they came close.

“Ralph thinks it does,” Ralph told Venus. He didn’t need to do that, Connor could hear him either way – but somehow Connor found that he appreciated it anyway. “Ralph is glad.”

When Connor glanced over, he found Simon smiling faintly, looking relieved, and perhaps a little pleased with himself too. Connor looked back down and thought of a reply for Ralph to give to Venus.

A while later, after Ralph had waved goodbye, Simon asked Connor, “Would you mind coming back next week? We could talk through Venus, like you and Ralph were. I don’t mind.”

Connor hesitated.

It would still be hard. But he _could _do it. Talking to Ralph had proven that.

“I want to talk about it with you first,” he told Venus, who sat upright in his lap, as patient as she was worn-down. “But I think I can try.”

“Of course,” Simon agreed easily. He sounded pleased. “Take your time. We’re not going anywhere.”


	3. Chapter 3

“I forgot your bottle,” Connor repeated for the fourth time, stress stretching his voice tight and glitchy, pitching and warping. “I’ve never forgotten your bottle. I never forget anything.”

His feet ate up the distance from one wall to the other, turned, and crossed the room again, agitated and rapid. The floor creaked slightly under his weight, which he disregarded, and he steered distractedly around the table, unable to bring himself to stop moving or even to pause.

He was overheating slightly, stress making his systems whir harshly, and his arms almost crushing Venus against his chest before he remembered to be gentle. Her hat was askew, in danger of falling off.

_“Don’t be upset,” _Venus murmured to him. _“I’ll get it back.”_

Connor was trembling.

Leaving Hank’s house had been an impulsive decision, and he already regretted it. But it had been a _bad day, _snowy and cold, and the roads had been icy – there was an accident on the news and Connor, distracted, wasn’t able to change the channel until Hank had already noticed-

Hank had his good days and his bad days, but only the worst days brought out his temper, when he lashed out at Connor and shoved thinly veiled reminders of every awful thing he’d done.

The worst days were very rare, and Hank was always sorry, and they got further and further apart as time passed. This one had taken long enough that Connor was caught by surprise, doubly so when he returned from walking Sumo to find that Hank had at some point brought out his gun, and then passed out – asleep, according to Connor’s haggard scans, rather than pulled under by alcohol.

Unexpectedly, the sight of the gun had made Connor freeze.

Hank had never shot Connor, but he’d come so close, and Connor didn’t want to die at Hank’s hands, and he didn’t want _Hank _to die at his own hands, and he’d gotten himself so scrambled that all he could think to do was bolt, and take the gun with him. He hadn’t even unleashed Sumo, not thinking to do any more than give him a clumsy bat when the friendly beast whined at him.

“I don’t want to be alone,” he rasped, teetering and overwhelmed. “I’m sorry. I panicked. I didn’t think I’d panic. I thought I was getting better.”

_“Shh,” _Venus coaxed, soothing and soft. _“It’s okay. You’re safe here. Sit by the fireplace and calm down, Connor. Everything’s going to be alright.”_

Connor shook his head quickly, swallowing. His movement sped up. “I shouldn’t have left,” he mumbled. “I forgot to let Sumo off his leash. Hank is going to be mad, I’m not meant to be doing anything reckless, I know he likes to keep track of where I am, I think he’s worried I, I-” His voice broke off and he stopped talking and he shivered.

It was snowing outside. Sumo had been the only reason he was able to go out at first, and then when he’d bolted the second time he’d been in such a blind panic anyway. It was likely only thanks to his internal GPS that he’d ended up in an even vaguely familiar place-

Though why he’d chosen Ralph’s old hideout, of all places, he had no idea.

_“You’re no danger to anyone,” _Venus said, a gentle reprimand. _“He shouldn’t say bad things about you. He scared you a lot.”_

Connor exhaled, long and shaky. His chin tucked against her head. He was crying, he realized dimly, silent and wet.

“I don’t mean to be so much trouble,” he breathed. “They’re not supposed to worry about me.”

_“Yes, they are,” _Venus said patiently. _“They promised. They can’t take it back now.”_

Connor made a soft sound, unconvinced and upset, but finally settled enough to sink down by the fireplace, setting his shoulder and head leaning against the wood. He was still wound up too tight to loosen his grip on Venus.

“I’m sorry I forgot your bottle,” he said at last, quiet and rough.

_“It’s okay,” _Venus reassured him. _“I’ll get it back.”_

Connor shuddered. “I don’t know if I can go back,” he confessed. Slow, faltering, he released Venus from his desperate grip and set her in the crook of his arm, straightening her hat and then tugging at her sleeves to settle those as well, anxious and fidgety. “I didn’t- say anything, and he was furious. I was making dinner when he became angry and it’s likely gone bad now, I left it out. And I’m not helpful, I can’t- work, or advocate for Jericho, or… anything.”

Venus was quiet for a minute, and Connor determinedly kept his back to the window, letting the eerie silence envelope them.

_“If he cares,” _Venus said at last, slow and hesitant in a way she never was, making more of a concession than she ever had before, _“he’ll look for you. And if he doesn’t, you don’t need him anyway.”_

“I have you,” Connor repeated to himself, remembering her constant reassurance.

_“You have me,” _Venus agreed. Then, quieter and hazed with haunting static, _“And… you have Markus, and Ralph, and Simon.”_

Connor paused, stuck silent. He thought about Ralph, showing him Jericho’s garden, and Simon, working at the pace Connor set with no questions asked. He remembered waking up to Markus, whose eyes were warm with concern, and fear that left within minutes. He remembered their smiles, each reassuring and bright in different ways.

“Oh,” he said, very quietly. “Oh. I do.”

He hugged her and let out a breath, and half his tension went with it.

“And I have you,” he repeated, softer and less desperate. “I still need you too.”

_“I’m glad,” _Venus said, the static suddenly gone again, and didn’t elaborate. But that was okay; Connor didn’t mind.

* * *

The next day, around twenty-three minutes before noon, the door to the abandoned house opened. Twenty-four minutes before noon, Connor heard the muffled sound of swearing and froze in place.

Hank stumbled through the door, disheveled and wan, and met Connor’s wide eyes. Half a second later, the man very nearly collapsed, relief visibly taking the strength from his body until he almost swayed in place, still with traces of alcohol in his system and likely, as far as Connor could tell, without having eaten that morning.

“Jesus Christ, Connor,” Hank rasped, wasting no more time in stomping toward him. Connor didn’t rise, still startled and almost confused, processing the fact that _Hank came looking. _“I’ve been searching for you for hours, almost thought you’d been kidnapped or something-”

Slowly, Connor shook his head, just as Hank reached him and dropped into the chair with a grunt.

“I just… got overwhelmed,” he said quietly, suddenly abashed. “I’m sorry, Hank. I didn’t mean to… to cause a fuss.”

Remorse darkened Hank’s expression, wrinkles forming and deepening around his forehead. “No, that’s- fuck. That was my fault. I’m sorry I keep doing this to you, kid. I’m old enough to know better than to take out my bad moods on someone else, and Christ knows you’ve got enough to deal with even when I don’t dump on you.”

Connor tilted his head, hitching Venus a little closer absentmindedly, and considered Hank for a moment, feeling tired and solemn as the surprise faded away.

“I lost your gun,” he said at last, probing. “I didn’t want you to use it, but I couldn’t stand holding onto it, and I don’t want to search my memory banks for where it fell.”

Hank barked a laugh, strange and strained. “Probably for the best, anyway, having that thing around never helped me any.” A brief pause, and then he continued, more serious, “I woke up with a hell of a screaming nightmare, you know. Threw me off my game for a bit. At least until I noticed you were gone.” His voice softened, not gentle but not so gruff either. “Scared the hell out of me, kid.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor repeated, arms tightening again. Venus squished slightly, plush and worn.

“I know,” Hank sighed, sliding off the chair to sit down beside Connor. “Oh, hey- you forgot this. I think it fell out of your pocket or something.”

From his own pocket, he pulled Venus’ bottle and dropped in on her, where it rolled to sit between her and Connor’s chest. He bopped her on the nose, light and quick, and smirked at her wryly.

“Thanks for looking after Connor for me,” he said, his flippant tone hiding something heavy in his voice.

Connor blinked at him, startled again, and then- smiled, an unfamiliar happiness ballooning in his chest until his breath hitched with it. He slid one arm free and, impulsively, hugged Hank, and Hank stiffened for only a moment before hugging him back, one-armed and only a little awkward.

“You ready to come home, kid?” he asked, and without hesitation, Connor nodded.

* * *

Abruptly, then, Venus stopped giving Hank nightmares; Connor could tell because he was waking in the middle of the night far less often, and his heart rate was usually lower when he did.

After about two weeks of that, Connor asked her about it, resting her on Sumo’s back where the dog was half draped over his lap and snuffling in his sleep, and Venus was quiet again for a while before she answered him.

_“He came for us,” _Venus said at last, her voice smaller and more subdued than usual. _“He brought my bottle and he spoke to me. He said he was sorry and he meant it.” _Pause. _“I think maybe he can be nice after all.”_

She sounded almost vulnerable, aching and distant.

Connor softened his voice, stroking her cheek lightly. “Hank’s been immeasurably kind,” he agreed quietly. “I like him a lot – I’m glad you’re coming to like him too. He can be difficult, and strange, but I think he always means well, in the end.”

A whistle of wind reached Connor’s ears, not quite natural. One of Sumo’s ears flicked.

_“I didn’t think you were nice at first either,” _Venus told him, and he tilted his head, waiting for her to continue. After a few seconds, she did. _“I scared you and gave you nightmares and made you sadder. But you didn’t notice. You were already scared and sad. So I made you mine instead. It was a good choice.”_

“You must have been very upset,” he said quietly, rubbing her cheek with his thumb, “so soon after losing Sadie.” Venus had still had Sadie’s blood on her, he recalled.

_“You helped,” _she said, soft and simple. _“I didn’t really want to be alone.”_

Connor smiled faintly.

“Good. I… think that that went as well as it was ever going to, for both of us.”

_“It can go better,” _Venus said quietly, audibly wistful.

Connor blinked, surprised, and considered for a moment. Sumo’s chest rose and fell, a soothing rhythm against his body.

“Perhaps,” he said at last, slow and thoughtful. “If we try very hard.” Pause, and then, “The others will help, I think. They’ve been doing so much for us all along.”

Venus hummed her agreement, and he smiled again, small and pleased.

He felt warm- he felt _hopeful._

* * *

Winter had almost passed again when Kara and Alice visited New Jericho. The thought made Connor feel nervous and shaky, restless enough that if he wasn’t kept grounded he’d flit from activity to activity without ever actually getting anything done, but he’d promised Ralph he’d visit him and he didn’t want to go back on that.

As it was, Ralph _was _keeping him grounded – he’d asked Connor previously to teach him to cook in Jericho’s rarely-used kitchen, and Connor had brought food with the intention of doing so now, seeking any sort of distraction from the knowledge that the mother and child he’d chased across a highway (before being thrown over one of the passing cars and crushed under the next) were nearby.

“I don’t know what Ralph is going to do with any of this food,” he told Venus, who sat a safe distance away from the stove, while Connor chopped some of the vegetables they’d add to the soup. “Neither of us can eat it and most of the other androids at New Jericho can’t either.”

“Ralph is going to give it to the child androids,” Ralph explained cheerfully, shooting Connor an easy, unbothered grin. “Not all of them get food very often, so Ralph hopes it’ll be a good treat for them!”

Connor gave him a small, bright smile.

“The vegetables have to go in in order,” he explained to Venus, shifting gears determinedly. “Because they mostly cook at different rates. Green vegetables go in mostly at the end, so we can put those aside, but the onions and garlic and carrots go in now.”

“Okay!” Ralph agreed readily, grabbing those of which he’d chopped to toss them in. They made just enough of a splash to send Connor skittering back in surprise, and Ralph laughed, face scrunching apologetically. “Ralph wants to know why vegetable soup. Ralph thought kids liked meat better.”

Connor considered, and glanced at Ralph.

“I don’t get to make it very often,” he said, not quite meeting Ralph’s eyes. “Hank doesn’t like it. But it’s fun to make.” He looked quickly away, back to Venus, and tacked on, “I think we can teach Ralph to make bean soup next time, because it’s got some of the flavors of meat stews but isn’t as expensive. It’s supposed to take much longer, but I haven’t tried making that.”

Connor saw Ralph smile at him out of the corner of his eye, and then Ralph said to Venus, “Ralph thinks that could be fun. Connor can tell Ralph what Ralph has to do while he’s gone; Ralph has a good memory.”

Connor relaxed, not even realizing how much he’d tensed up, and continued, shifting to the next step.

They’d just tossed in the last of the vegetables when someone knocked on the door, and Connor started, spinning around with his LED flashing yellow-red-yellow.

The door opened without waiting for a response – of course, the kitchen was a public space – and Kara appeared in the doorway, cautious but not fearful. Seeing them, she offered a hesitant smile.

“Hello,” she greeted with a nod, stepping through. One of her hands trailed behind her, leading to Alice, and a large man followed just behind – Luther, from what Connor had heard. “Markus told me I could find the two of you here.”

“Hello, Kara and Alice!” Ralph said, delighted. He bounced forward, and Connor slid carefully back, picking Venus up from the counter and tucking her against him. “And Ralph thinks you must be Luther! Ralph heard about you when he asked about Kara before.”

“Hello, Ralph,” Luther returned, inclining his head slightly. After a moment, his gaze flicked to Connor and lingered there for a minute before he nodded. “Connor.”

Connor wavered, and then dipped his head in return, glancing back at Kara and Alice quickly.

Kara had, slowly, started to relax, smiling at Ralph as he spoke, even as she didn’t let go of Alice’s hand. Luther slipped to one side to lean against one of the counters, arms crossed and posture unconcerned, and Alice- was looking periodically at Connor, eyes wide and curious, if still a little unsure.

“Connor was teaching Ralph how to make soup,” Ralph told Kara earnestly. “Alice can try some! It will be done soon.”

“Ah-” Kara faltered, glancing questioningly at Connor, and Connor managed a strained, small smile and another nod; he remembered the burnt possum that had been in Ralph’s house before, but this was from a recipe that had turned out reasonably well before, even if Hank had griped about the vegetables. Kara turned a smile on Ralph. “I’m sure she’d love to.”

Alice scowled at Kara, and Kara ignored her, though her smile eased into a twitch of amusement and her hand finally released Alice’s as she relaxed.

As soon as she was free, Alice darted over to Connor, and he had to restrain a startle.

“Is that a doll?” Alice questioned, expectant eyes fixed on his.

Ralph paused to glance back at Connor, smile vanishing for a brief moment, and Connor hesitated, staring down at Alice. His arms were tight around Venus, and his regulator whirred anxiously, the restless, impotent energy that had plagued him all day flowing through him limbs.

Slowly, then, Connor crouched in front of Alice and loosened his grip. His eyes stayed on hers.

“Her name is Venus,” he said, slow and deliberate. “I found her in the street after the revolution, but I’ve cleaned her since then. Would you like to hold her?”

Ralph’s smile returned, bright and cheerful, and he turned back to Kara, asking about how she’d gotten here, and if she was staying.

Alice nodded quickly, eyes wide, and when he held Venus out, she took her carefully, her hold a little awkward so she could see the doll better. One of her hands ran over the faded and stained clothing curiously.

“She’s really old,” Alice whispered, awestruck, and Connor smiled lightly.

“Venus is older than me,” he informed her.

Alice leveled an unimpressed look at him. _“I’m _older than you.”

Caught by surprise, Connor laughed. (Faint, echoing, Venus did too.)

* * *

“Jeffrey wants to know if you’re planning on coming back to the DPD sometime,” Hank said to Connor over lunch, casual and unconcerned.

Connor, sitting to the side with Venus on the edge of the table, shook his head hastily enough to make Hank snort out a laugh.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Hank said dryly, biting down on his sandwich. “Thought I’d ask though.”

“I don’t think I could ever hold a gun again,” Connor explained without prompting, fidgeting with one of Venus’ hands as he frowned. Just the thought made him feel sick, and he still remembered dropping Hank’s gun in the middle of a snowstorm because it had felt like it was burning him. “That would be a significant barrier to police work, I suspect. And while I can still fight, I believe the danger would make me- excessively nervous.”

He didn’t want to die _again._

There was a pause, and then Hank tipped his head at him, understanding, smile gone.

“Have you thought about what you might wanna do instead?” he prompted.

Connor glanced away for a moment, and then admitted, “I think I’d like to work with animals. That leaves me with several reasonably good options.”

“It sure does,” Hank said agreeably. He reached out and ruffled Connor’s hair, and then said, “Think about it. You’ve got time.”

Connor smiled a little and nodded, shoulders loosening with his contentment.

“Maybe you can find one that’ll let you bring Venus,” Hank added, amused, glancing down at the doll. “I’m sure she’d brighten up any boring old office.”

“I don’t think dolls are accepted office companions,” Connor said automatically, but he had to admit he liked the idea.

(Connor admitted to Venus, “I think I’m happy. That isn’t bad, is it?”

_“Never,”_ Venus said without hesitation, and then, quieter, _“I think I am too. I love you a lot, Connor, and things are good now.”_

Connor smiled, relieved. “I wonder if I can become a vet. Gaining the qualifications would take time, but I think I would enjoy it.” He could bring Venus, too – in the office, like Hank had suggested, and the idea of healing instead of hurting was more than just appealing, to Connor.)

* * *

“If Venus is no longer cursed,” Connor asked Simon, “does that mean I no longer am either?”

Simon smiled at him, pleased and proud. “I think so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how happy I am with this part, but this story is at least wrapped up for real now. :) I wasn't expecting the idea of Connor as a vet to be as appealing as it is, but I think it's good for him in verses where he's no longer comfortable being a police officer for whatever reason he may have.


End file.
